


The Mixup

by stanclub



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: (only if you squint since the reader is not his student anymore), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Praise Kink, Professor Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanclub/pseuds/stanclub
Summary: The two of you approached room 313 with curious caution, wondering what exactly lay behind the heavy door. James slid the key into the reader on the door and it clicked, allowing the two of you entrance.There, sitting in the middle of the spacious room, was one bed; a queen-sized elephant rearing her awkward trunk. “I’ll take the floor,” you offered with a gentle smile. He let out a shaky breath. “You’ll do no such thing, Y/N. Absolutely not. I’ll take the floor.”“Well would you look at that! Chivalry isn’t dead after all!” you deadpanned. “How about neither of us sleep on the floor and we just go check with the desk to see if any other rooms are available?”“The hotel is completely booked thanks to the conference. No open rooms available,” he told you, his fingers pinching the high up on the  bridge of his nose, right between his eyes.“I’ll make you a deal, then. Why don’t we agree to share the bed under the condition that we both remain fully clothed and on separate sides of the bed?”Professor Barnes perked up at your suggestion. “Yeah, that could work. We’re both adults. It’ll be fine, right?”Famous. Last. Words.





	The Mixup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MorningGlory2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningGlory2/gifts).



> This was my entry for my dear friend [Courtney](http;//captainrogerrsbeard.tumblr.com/)'s 400 follower challenge over on tumblr and my prompt was bedsharing.

“Just shut up and go,” your friend had told you right before ending the call. You had contacted her for some advice regarding your current situation. As a grad student, you were also able to work as an assistant professor in the English department at a small college in New York City. **  
**

The professor you worked with had invited you to a work function which would take place from Thursday evening until Sunday. You were panicked, of course, because you were absolutely, utterly, completely weak-in-the-knees for your boss.

Getting tired of hearing you complaining, talking yourself into it and out of it in the same breath, your friend had told you to just get your shit together and go.

And well, it was hard arguing with that logic. That sole conversation with your friend is exactly how you ended up with Professor Barnes- or James, as he’d asked you to call him- in his office agreeing to attend this event with him.

The invitation to the Boston Literary Conference was presented to you with a great selling point by Professor Barnes anyway. “This will be an excellent opportunity for you to get your name out there in the literary world, Y/N. You’ll be introduced to major publishing companies, authors, and representatives from just about every step in the literary world. The networking opportunities alone are going to be impressive and you should get the chance to get your name out there,” he had told you with a smile.

You had asked for a little bit of time to think it over and rearrange your schedule, knowing full well that you had nothing planned. You never had plans. As a grad student working as an assistant professor, you had almost zero free time, so friends had quit trying to make plans.

No, in reality you had struggled with the decision, despite it possibly being the best chance to jump start your career because of your feelings toward your boss. You were nervous about him finding out how you felt somehow. But, like your friend pointed out, he wanted you to go, so you’re going. You told Professor Barnes as much, too.

He had been excited to hear that you’d be joining him, enthusiastic about explaining the necessities of the weekend and what to expect, before confirming travel arrangements. Boston wasn’t far, maybe a few hours, so you agreed to letting the professor drive his Jaguar with you riding shotgun. The English department’s assistant had already booked the hotel rooms so it seemed as though all was good to go. You thanked Professor Barnes for the opportunity once again before leaving to go get packed.

-

It was now traveling day, and you were more nervous than it seemed like you had ever been. You packed some professional clothes, business casual mostly with one knockout dress for the conference mixer which took place on Saturday night.

You were just finishing slipping your Chuck Taylor’s on your feet as a knock sounded at your apartment door. “Just a sec!” you called, hastily throwing your jacket around your body and grabbing your bag, slinging it across your body. You opened the door and were shocked by what you saw.

“Wow! Um. I’ve never seen you out of work clothes, Professor Barnes!” He laughed and you tried willing the blush away from your cheeks. “I’m just about ready to head out.” You stepped aside gesturing for him to come inside your apartment. “I just gotta do one more walkthrough to make sure I’ve got everything.”

“Please, Y/N. Call me James. We’ve been over this before and we are about to be with each other for the next four days and I don’t think I can take the professor talk the entire time,” he said with a smile, walking through the doorway and into your small apartment.

“Alrighty then, James. Give me just a few and we can head out.”

You left him standing in your living area, which was thankfully picked up and clutter free, for the most part. You ran into your room and scanned your closet, made sure you grabbed everything you needed before heading back out to where James waited for you.

You found him standing in front of your bookcase admiring the titles which were proudly on display. Noticing your presence, he spoke. “You have a nice collection here. Have they all been read?”

It was your turn to shoot him a smile. “Yep. In fact, I’ve read most of these at least twice.”

He shot you an impressed look before gesturing to your luggage. “All set?”

You took a deep breath and walked over to your suitcase. “All set,” you said, bending down to grab the handle to your suitcase. It telescoped upward and you rolled it along with you out of your apartment, James following hot on your heels.

You made nervous small talk the entire way down to the street. Once there, you stopped in your tracks, jaw hanging open, staring at the impressive car you were sure belonged to James. “Is that… yours?”

He let out a little chuckle before nodding. “It’s the one indulgence I’ve allowed myself to have. I make good money at the college, plus my income from my published works. I kept my house small, I don’t buy things I don’t need. I love driving, and I like driving fast, so that’s how I ended up with this beauty. She’s a dream come true.”

He spoke about his vehicle passionately and of course, because life is cruel that way, the vibrant way in which he spoke only added to his attractiveness. It wasn’t enough that you saw him in well-fitted, tailored suits each day. When he arrived at your apartment today he had been in casual light wash jeans, a loose fitting olive colored tee that still somehow managed to highlight his body in the best way, and a hoodie with faux fur lining the inside of it keeping him warm. His hair wasn’t styled- it just kind of messily laid however it felt like laying, and he looked so delicious you could hardly stand it.

You must have been standing outside his car just kind of staring into space for quite a while because when he said your name, breaking you free from whatever spell you had been under, you realized your suitcase was gone- packed in the trunk of the Jaguar by your professor in shining armor. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You shook your head, breaking yourself free of your daydream. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just not a morning person,” you lied, opening the sleek door and getting into the car with as much grace as you could muster.

“Okay,” he started, shedding  he hoodie that surrounded his upper body. You nearly choked on your own tongue as you realized James’ entire left arm was covered in thick, ropey strands of a tattoo, which now that you’re really looking, you can see goes up to his shoulder and left pectoral muscle. You can just barely make out the lines at the neck of his tee. “Sweetheart, you’re staring.”

You rolled your eyes at your own ignorance. “I’m so sorry, James. I’m not meaning to be rude, and I hope I’m not coming off that way. I just… haven’t seen you outside work or class and you’re an entirely different person. You’re a mysterious man, James Barnes.”

His smile was so wide it could have split his face, you were sure of it. “I’m a man shrouded in mystery except to those I choose to let in. By asking you to accompany me this weekend, I had kind of figured we should cross that professional threshold and consider ourselves more friends at this point, if that’s okay?”

It was your turn to smile widely. “Yes, that is absolutely okay! We have almost a four hour drive to Boston, so let’s get to know each other on a more friendly level, whaddya say? A game of 20 questions or something?”

His right hand was on the gear shift as he wove through traffic, the ride smooth and effortless. You could definitely see why he loved his car so much. He drove it like it were an extension of himself. “Uh, I don’t know what that is,” he told you, sparing a brief look in your direction before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Well, I don’t know exactly either I guess. We just ask each other questions and answer them, taking turns. If it’s too lame we don’t have to,” you told him, nervously folding your hands in your lap.

“We can do that. How about you ask first.” A beam of sunlight shone in his face so he reached up to a compartment in the roof of his car pulling down a pair of aviator sunglasses as he waited for your question. He was distracting. “Y/N? You got a question for me?”

A giggle bubbled out of your chest as you realized you had been staring… again. “Yeah, sorry. I was trying to think of something. Do you have a significant other you’re hiding somewhere? Along with this laid back personality I never knew you had?”

His left foot hit the clutch as his right hand shifted another gear as you got on the highway and you took the moment to truly admire the way his body moved. Fluid and graceful, he was a sight to behold. “No, no girlfriend to speak of. I’m single from the womb to the tomb, it would seem.”

You scoffed at that. “James. You’re exaggerating, surely.” There’s no way a man could be anything like James Barnes and be single for any significant amount of time unless it were by choice. “Not even one lost love to speak of?”

“You’re using more than one question here, you know.” He said.

“Yeah whatever. Answer me, Barnes.”

“Well, there was one. I was around 18 and she was a really shitty person, but I didn’t realize that until I had been with her for several years. The entire time I had been building a life for us, she was out fucking one of my friends. It’s been rough getting over that, ya know? The only woman I ever loved… not being enough for her.”

Sympathy took over your features. “You… you’re…” You paused, thinking about the best way to word what was on your mind. You didn’t want James to think you were some college girl with a crush. You were in your mid twenties and an assistant professor with a crush, but he didn’t need to know that either. Yet, anyway. “What an absolute shitty thing for someone to do. I’m sorry you went through that,” you offered.

He gave you a sad smile before speaking. “How ‘bout we lighten the mood, eh? I do believe my it is now my turn to ask the questions.” You nodded, waiting for him to speak. “You have brothers or sisters?”

And that question prompted a lengthy discussion about family. You told him about yours while also listening intently to all the information he offered, delighted by the fact that he was so forthcoming with information about himself.

You learned that he had a sister, Rebecca, and a best friend who was more like a brother, Steve. James told you stories of their younger years, and then explained how Steve lost his mother and had nowhere else to go, so the Barneses took him in.

As conversation had slowed, you began feeling like it was time for a new question. Glancing over at James, you realized you had the perfect one. “Alright. My turn again. What’s with the arm? It’s beautiful work, how come you don’t display it, ever?”

He glanced quickly at his arm before sparing a quick look over at you then turning his eyes back to the road. “I do display it, just not at work. Since you’ve never seen me outside of work until today, you’ve never seen it.”

“Fair point,” you said, waiting for him to explain the intricate tattoo work.

“After my relationship ended, I went through a lot of ups and downs. I got the mechanical gears and gadgets as a reminder that even though I was broken, I was still fixable.” He paused, allowing himself a moment to think before his expression became lighter and a twinkle appeared in his eye. “Plus at the time I had gone through a bit of a steampunk phase, and thankfully this is all that remains of that.”

You snorted out a laugh, picturing James Barnes in a steampunk cosplay. What a sight that must’ve been. “Alright, James. Your question.”

He asked you about your life, your plans, likes and dislikes, and one particular question launches a hilarious conversation over which English department professors were the best, excluding Professor Barnes since there was a supposed “unfair advantage,” he had said.

The entire drive down to Boston had given you both time to get to know one another on a personal level and it was great to know James was more than just a pretty face in impeccably tailored slacks. He was brilliant, funny, and interesting. You learned that he truly preferred to be called Bucky by his close friends, and asked if you’d mind calling him that as well. “It makes things more personal,” he had said.

“Sure thing, James,” you had answered, shooting a wink in his direction. You definitely did not imagine a red hue blossoming across his cheekbones down to his neck. He was blushing and you wanted to explore that very much… when you had time. You were pulling into a vacant parking spot in the hotel lot before you even realized you had gotten off the highway.

“Let’s leave our shit in the car until we find out where our rooms are,” he said. Agreeing, you both exited the vehicle and proceeded into the hotel lobby. You approached the desk and waited as the slight woman behind the counter finished up with another guest before turning to the two of you.

“Hello and welcome! What can we do for you today?” She asked with a dangerous smirk on her thin, red lips. She was enthusiastically eyeing Bucky’s body, paying absolutely no attention to you, so you decided to speak up.

“Reservation under Barnes? Should be two rooms in close proximity.” She slowly (and regretfully) took her eyes from Bucky’s tall, muscular form to yours.

“Right. Give me just a moment to check,” she said, her French tipped manicure tapping away at the keys of her keyboard. “Ah, yes. I have one room here for Barnes.” She turned away from the counter and travelled over to a cabinet which held the door keys and procured two, along with a welcome pamphlet. “Third floor, room 313. Check out time will be noon Sunday. Please do let us know if there’s anything- and I do mean anything- we can do for you. Enjoy your stay!”

Bucky looked a little shell shocked from his exchange with the concierge. Or maybe it was the brash way the woman had eyed him up and spoke to him like she’d fuck him right then and there, an audience be damned. “You uh… alright?”

“Only one room? There were supposed to be two,” was all he said.

You took a moment to think about what he was saying. Was it you? Did he suddenly find the idea of splitting a room with you repulsive? “I’m sure it has two beds, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you told him, watching his shoulders lose some of their tension as the elevator took off for the third floor.

The two of you approached room 313 with curious caution, wondering what exactly lay behind the heavy door. James slid the key into the reader on the door and it clicked, allowing the two of you entrance.

There, sitting in the middle of the spacious room, was one bed; a queen-sized elephant rearing her awkward trunk. “I’ll take the floor,” you offered with a gentle smile.

He let out a shaky breath. “You’ll do no such thing, Y/N. Absolutely not. I’ll take the floor.”

“Well would you look at that! Chivalry isn’t dead after all!” you deadpanned. “How about neither of us sleep on the floor and we just go check with the desk to see if any other rooms are available?”

“The hotel is completely booked thanks to the conference. No open rooms available,” he told you, his fingers pinching the high up on the  bridge of his nose, right between his eyes.

“I’ll make you a deal, then. Why don’t we agree to share the bed under the condition that we both remain fully clothed and on separate sides of the bed?”

Professor Barnes perked up at your suggestion. “Yeah, that could work. We’re both adults. It’ll be fine, right?”

Famous. Last. Words.

-

After unloading the Jag and bringing all the stuff up to your room, laughing along the way, James broke out the conference itinerary to share with you. The welcome party would happen later on during the first night, lectures all day Saturday, a conference cocktail party on Saturday night, then optional lectures Sunday, one of which was being taught by James’ best friend Steve.

Steve, as it turned out, was amazing. He was an important person at a publishing company and had invited you to talk with him about the possibilities of working with him after graduation. While he looked intimidating, he was soft spoken and gentlemanly. He was easy to talk to, friendly, and he kept offering up stories of his and Bucky’s childhood.

His other literary friends were pretty awesome too. Natasha was a witty, clever, drop-dead gorgeous agent. Sam was equally as brilliant, an author with incredible talent. Sam had an extra something, though, when you realized his favorite past time was poking fun at James.

It felt like you belonged there with them, and after spending all day Friday and Saturday with the small group, shuffling from lecture to lecture, you were ready to really get to know them at the cocktail party. Mixing booze with these people had  to be a riot and you were dying to witness it.

You had been getting ready in the spacious bathroom in your hotel room while Bucky had been in the gym, getting his daily workout in and giving you some privacy. You were glad for it, too, because being around him all day, then sleeping in such close proximity to him without being able to do anything about it had become close to excruciating. One thing was for sure, you had it bad for Professor Barnes.

You took your time getting your hair hair and makeup how you like before dressing. You were walking toward your suitcase clad in your lingerie, a black lacy one piece thing, as you heard the lock click in the door. You ran faster to your case and grabbed your dress as quickly as possible and tossed it over your head. Thankfully, it had just fallen past the cheeks of your ass as Bucky had poked his head through the door.

“Oh shit, sweetheart! I didn’t see anything I swear!” He had told you as his cheeks bloomed with a crimson color.

“It’s alright James. I trust you,” you told him as you fixed your dress. “Actually, since you’re here, can you zip me?” You held your dress together at the back as best you could, but you couldn’t reach. Normally you’d twist it around, but with an audience you didn’t want it to be weird.

“Sure. It’s the least I can do, really.” He strode toward you, a faint blush still decorating his cheeks as he took you in. As he approached your back, he brushed your hair away from your shoulders and reached for the zipper of your dress. Slowly, your dress was drawn closed and you felt breath close to your neck. “You look beautiful…” he whispered, face close to the shell of your ear. “I hope that’s not too forward of me to say.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin. “N-no. It’s… Thank you.” It was your turn to blush a furious shade of red and he hummed at the sight.

“Alright, I’m gonna shower and get ready. Meet you downstairs?” He asked, stripping off his shirt on the way to the bathroom.

You choked on air trying to form a coherent thought as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he moved. “Uh….huh? Oh. Yeah. Right. Downstairs. See you in a few, James.” You slipped on your heels and went to the door, ready to book it down to the party to escape the now very awkward situation in your room.

You slammed the heavy door behind you and sped toward the elevator which took you to the beautifully decorated banquet room on the first floor of the hotel. Your eyes travelled around the vast space looking for a familiar face when you happened to spot Steve and Natasha at the bar. You walked over and greeted them with a wide smile on your face. Steve, delighted to see you (and quite the hugger), embraced you warmly. Natasha greeted you similarly, skipping the big hug and opting for a smaller, more dainty one.

Natasha was the first to ask, of course, as blunt as she could be. “So where’s your boyfriend? I thought you two would come down together?”

Shocked at her words, you couldn’t quite find your own. “I… what? James and I… We’re not… it’s not…”

“Oh please, Y/N! I was just messing with you! Besides, if you two were together, I’m sure Stevie and I would be the first to know,” she said with a knowing smirk. “And why are you still calling him James?”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, trying not to let the hope that was blossoming in your chest seep out into your reaction, desperately trying to maintain your cool as you waited for her answer. Steve’s snort came first, though, and Natasha spotted Bucky and went to him leaving Steve to answer you.

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be that obtuse, can you?” Again, you waited, not wanting to get your hopes up for something that just wouldn’t be in the cards for you. Steve rolled his eyes at your lack of a reaction. “Buck’s totally got it bad. For you. He’s had it bad for you since you started working with him. He won’t shut up about you, either. That’s why I told him to invite you this weekend.”

“Holy shit. Fuck. Wait, you’re really serious, aren’t you. Promise me you’re serious, Steve.”

“As a heart attack,” he said, placing a warm hand on your shoulder to ground you.

“I’ve got it bad for him too, you know,” you told him, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, anyone with two eyes can tell. You’re not subtle. Neither of you are.” His hand slid down to the middle of your back as a mischievous sparkle shone in his eyes. “In fact, i don’t know how either of you could be so oblivious when you watch each other as much as you do.”

“Uh, Steve? What are you doing?” His eyes weren’t looking at you. He was looking past you as he rubbed the small of your back, and you had a feeling you knew exactly what he was up to. “Bucky’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“Mmhmm,” he said, eyes darting down to your own, a devious grin on his face.

“He’s watching me, isn’t he?”

“Oh, definitely. In fact, he looks like he could kill me right now. Understandably. I’m just giving him the little push he needs to show you how he feels. Now, let’s go over to them, pretend like you know nothing, and grab drinks?”

Nodding, the two of you headed over to your friends. You tried to calm your nerves, sipping a glass of wine as you made small talk with the group. Your eyes kept drifting to Bucky, though, and you noticed things you hadn’t recognized before. He always sat positioned towards you. Kept looking in your direction, making sure you were included and having a decent time. You could see it, now.

As the night progressed, Bucky became more open, more touchy-feely with you. His hand rested on your leg or along your chair back like it was second nature for him. His cheeks were red, mirth dancing in his bright blue eyes, and there was a brilliant smile on his face as he turned toward you. “Y/N, would you wanna dance? With me?”

He seemed almost relieved when you nodded, grabbing your offered hand and leading you out to the dance floor. There were a handful of people already out there, so you didn’t feel like the whole room was watching the two of you. It wasn’t strange or awkward when his hands found your hips, or when your fingers laced through the hair on the back of his head.

“Can I ask you something?’ The two of you began swaying to the music, spinning and twirling where appropriate.

“Anything,” you answered, tempted to lay your head on his chest as you danced.

“When I came down earlier you were standing with Steve. His hands were on you. Are you…” he paused, twirling you around once again before bringing you back into his chest, closer than before. “Are you interested in Steve?”

You giggled. Steve was such a little shit. “Nope, it’s not Steve I’m interested in, James.”

“Oh?” Another twirl. “Then why did you let him put his hands on you?”

“He was trying to give you the push you needed to tell me how you feel about me. I’m listening,” you told him, stopping your movement completely as you waited for his words to come. Despite already knowing, you wanted to hear the words come from the source.

Silence stretched between the two of you for mere seconds, though it seemed like centuries. “You want a drink? I need a drink. Let’s get drinks.” He grabbed your hand and gently led the way to the bar. Once you were armed with your glass of wine and him with his warm, smokey glass of whiskey, he headed towards the patio. No one else was out there, leaving the two of you with privacy to talk. He was nervous. You were tipsy. And giggly. And you couldn’t wait to kiss him.

You tried waiting patiently as he worked his way through saying nothing at all, really. Taking pity on him, you set your wine glass down on the table and touched either side of his stubble-dusted face. “Me too.”

Eyes wide, he swallowed thickly. “You…. do? Really?”

You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy before slowly closing the distance between his lips and yours. The kiss was small, brief but meaningful. You pulled away, a little starry-eyed as you did so. “Yeah. Really.”

He closed the distance once more, but rather than leaving you with another brief kiss, his lips were searing as they moulded against your own. Bucky’s tongue brushed against your lips, tasting the sweet wine, pulling a soft sigh out of you as you opened your mouth to his. The whiskey glass was set next to your forgotten wine as his hands finally met your skin; one holding the back of your head, making sure you were as close as possible, while the other cupped your jaw.

You pulled away, dazed. “Wow. Holy shit,” he said, voice filled with wonder as his fingers traced his lips, that phantom feeling of your lingering touch still playing on them.

“That was…” you trailed off, looking for the right words to describe the kiss.

“Can we do it again? Later? In our room with one bed?” Bucky asked, eager to hear your response.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of your chest. “Seriously, Bucky?”

His eyes darkened, expression changing from light and happy to one of desire and promises of what was to come and his voice dropped low.  “Listen, sweetheart. I caught a hint of lace underneath that dress I helped you into and I gotta tell you… I’m dying to help you out of it, too. I’ve wanted you for as long as I’ve known you. We’re consenting adults. I’m a hundred percent serious.” He stared for a moment before speaking again. “You called me Bucky.”

Desire pooled deep within you as you took in his ravenous expression. “Let’s dance, first. Then we’ll make our exit… and yeah, I did.”

Bucky stood and held his hand out for you to grab and unsurprisingly didn’t let it go once you were standing. “The quicker we get this over with…” he said, obviously very eager to be doing other things.

The two of you walked back into the party area and gaped at your friends. Natasha and Steve were already out on the dance floor seemingly having a blast in the crowd. Steve spotted you first, then Natasha, and they beckoned you over to them.

Bucky sighed, but tugged your hand in that direction anyway. Steve’s gaze dropped to your joined hands and he let out a victorious sound. “Buck! You finally got your head out of your ass, I see!”

“Fuck off, Rogers,” came Bucky’s clipped reply, and nothing more was said.

The four of you danced for several songs enjoying the upbeat sway of your bodies as the warmth of the alcohol you consumed flowed through your veins. You felt amazing, and the feeling was only amplified when you felt Bucky’s eyes fall along your body.

You began dancing for him, moving your hips and ass in time with the music letting the movements of your body turn sensual and seductive. The alcohol had been mostly sweat out of your system and you still couldn’t deny the absolute urge your body felt, the attraction and the pure want you felt when you looked at him.

You moved closer to him, spun and let your ass land against his groin as it wiggled before spinning back around and running your fingers along his chest. “I think we should head to bed now, James,” you told him, your velvety voice filled with promise of things to come.

“Mm, yeah,” he groaned, clearly thinking on the same wavelength. He lifted his heavy gaze from your body and directed it toward his friends who were busy enjoying themselves on the dance floor. “Don’t think they’ll care if we forget to say goodbye. Let’s go.”

He stopped dancing and started walking fast out of the party area toward the elevators. Your fingers were linked with his, so you followed at an equally fast pace, moving your legs as fast as they’d carry you. With no wait at the elevators, the two of you entered one and pushed the button for the third floor and stood facing one another. A few breaths passed before your lips were crashing into his, or maybe his lips were crashing into yours, whichever way it went, the kiss was scorching hot and it wasn’t long before he had you pinned against the elevator wall, your hands buried in his soft locks.

You could feel his erection straining against his slacks and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving against it. He hissed causing you to pause your movements thinking you may have hurt him accidentally, but he eased your mind when he kissed you again. “I can’t wait to get you under me,” he said after pulling away from your lips. One of his hands had found its way to your thigh, and it was trailing upwards, dangerously close to your lace-covered center.

“Bucky,” you whined, wishing he’d just touch you already, but of course he teased instead, palming your ass while devouring your neck.

“Patience, sweetheart.” After what seemed like a lifetime but was, in reality, only a few moments, the elevator dinged signaling your arrival to your hotel floor. Bucky set you down carefully, chuckling to himself when you wobbled slightly. “You okay?”

You shot him a look. “I’m so turned on I can’t walk straight and I really hope you’re ready to do something about it.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I intend to,” he told you as he grabbed your hand and led the way to your room. He pulled the key card from his slacks and slid it into the slot, and the moment he heard the soft click of the lock releasing you were inside, his body pressed up against yours in the small entryway.

Your back hit the wall with a thud as his lips fell against yours once again, his tongue begging for entrance to taste you. You opened for him and moaned at the feel of his tongue moving with yours. Bucky’s hands were roaming along your curves when suddenly he stopped and pulled away from you.

He spun you around so that your front was pressed against the wall. “Is this okay?” he asked, his fingers closing over the zipper.

“Yes, please,” you said, encouraging him to allow you out of the dress.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as you felt your dress fall to the floor, leaving you in only your lacy singlet and heels. “Goddamn, Y/N.” Bucky’s hands moved across the lace discovering more of your body with those hands as well as his eyes. “Turn around, baby. Lemme see you.”

You did as he asked, turning slowly with a bashful smile on your face. “Take me to bed, Bucky. I need you, please…”

He quieted you with a kiss as he scooped you up in his arms and brought you to the bed. He backed away from you only to unbutton his dress shirt and drop his slacks, leaving him in tight black boxer briefs, his erection already evident and inviting. He palmed himself before dropping back on the bed on top of you. “You look lovely in lace, sweetheart,” he told you, eyes devouring your body. He hooked a finger under the material at your left breast and moved it, exposing you to him. He did the same with the other side exposing your chest to his hungry gaze.

You let out a gasp at the feeling of his soft tongue licking at your nipple. He nipped at it while rolling the other one with his fingers until you were writhing beneath him on the bed. “May I?” he asked, moving to slide your singlet down your body.

You nodded, granting him permission. Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid the material down your arms, allowing you to shuffle out of it before continuing to bring the fabric down your body. Once you were bare, he trailed his fingers up each leg, then following that trail with his lips before finally ending up where you needed him the most.

“You are beautiful, sweetheart. I can’t believe i’m lucky enough to be able to do this with you,” he said, his breath tickling your dewy skin. He touched his tongue to your center, tasting your juices causing your back to arch off the bed and your hands to grip the sheets. “Oh, this will be fun.”

“Bucky, please,” you cried, feeling his mouth latch onto you, his tongue flicking your clit. He hummed for you, the vibrations sending shocks throughout your body just as he slipped a finger inside you. He pumped it in and out a few times before sliding a second finger in alongside it, mouth still sucking and nipping at your clit. He added a third finger and crooked them so that he hit your spot and he began massaging you from the inside.

He pulled back just far enough to tell you what a good girl you were being before diving back in, his mouth working your clit furiously until you could feel your walls clench around his fingers.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asked you, fingers moving furiously inside you. Your hips started moving in time with his hand. Since he wanted to see you come undone, he replaced his mouth with his thumb, massaging tiny circles with light, teasing pressure around your clit. “I’ll bet you’re gorgeous when you let go, sweetheart. Let me see. Cum for me. Cum all over my hand baby.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You let out a moan as the tension in your body reached its peak and you could feel yourself falling, eyes rolling back and closing as you rode out your high, the feeling of Bucky’s lips up against your pussy a faint feeling adding to the euphoria you were already feeling. He lapped at you until you were too sensitive to take it. “You taste so fuckin’ good sweetheart,” he told you, licking up the last of your wetness from his fingers.

“You okay?” He asked, worried due to your lack of speaking.

“I’m fine I think, just felt really good.” You cracked an eye open to find him staring back at you, fire in blown out gaze. You gave yourself a breath then surged forward, kissing him hard, letting your fingers dance along the intricate tattoo work on his body. “Can I put my mouth on you, Bucky? I wanna taste…”

His answering groan was all the encouragement you needed as you pushed him backwards letting him fall to the bed. You peppered a trail of kisses from his lips, to his jaw, down the column of his neck. You left small reminders in the form of marks along his collarbones before continuing your path down his defined abs, licking his Adonis lines before finally reaching his gorgeous cock. It stood proud, an angry red color with a purple tip leaking fluid, begging for your mouth. You gave yourself a moment to appreciate it, the beauty of the thing, before finally licking a long, fat, wet stripe along the underside of his length.

You let your tongue dance along the opening, cleaning up his precum and savoring the flavor that was pure Bucky. “Sweetheart, you gotta stop teasin-“ you cut him off by sinking all the way down his length until your nose met the soft patch of curly hair at the base of his cock. Without warning, you swallowed around him causing him to cry out as his long fingers found purchase in your hair. “Oh fuck, baby, just like that, you look so pretty around my cock,” he couldn’t stop the praise from coming.

You pulled back slightly to give yourself time to breathe, keeping your lips wrapped around his head while your hands worked his length. They pumped a few times before you slid them to his base and squeezed, sliding your lips back down. This time you didn’t stop. You fucked him with your mouth. His words and praises soon turned into heavy pants and grunts before he finally pulled you off of him. “I’m gonna cum if you keep going and I’d rather cum in that beautiful pussy of yours. I’ll cum down your throat next time… I bet you’d like that huh, suckin’ my cock like you were made for it.”

“Professor, you sure do have a dirty mouth,” you said, winking as you moved to straddle him. His length lay hot and hard against his stomach. You pressed your wetness against him and teased, moving back and forth along his length until neither of you could take it anymore.

“Condom?” You asked, trying to keep your wits about you.

“In my toiletry bag on the sink,” he told you, thankful he had packed any at all. “Hurry, sweetheart.”

You ran to get the condom and when you approached the bed once again, Bucky’s fist was enclosed over his cock and he was pumping himself slowly. “C’mon, sweetheart. I want you.”

You climbed up onto the bed and straddled his legs. Batting his hand away, you tore open the foil packet and rolled the condom over his considerable length. You lined yourself up. You sank down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

Once you finally had all of him inside you, you began to move. You rocked your hips slowly at first, adjusting to his size, then sped your movements up. He began thrusting in time with you. “God, Bucky, ‘m so close…” you began tensing, your whole body.

He planted his feet flat against the bed and began thrusting up into you fast while his thumb found your clit. He rubbed circles around it and whispered words of praise as your pleasure peaked, watching with awe as the waves of your orgasm flowed through you.

Before you had the chance to start moving again, Bucky moved with surprising strength, flipping the two of you over so that you were beneath him. He wasted no time at all before sinking back inside you, the new angle along your heightened sensitivity from your orgasm causing you to cry out.

Nothing in the world had ever felt this right or this good, and you were determined to keep it. Bucky began pumping his hips wildly, rhythm be damned. He was too close to the edge. “Sweetheart, one more time. You gotta cum with me okay? You close?” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice. He gave a few more deep thrusts before stilling, buried deep within your fluttering walls.

Words were beyond you both as several moments passed. When Bucky gathered enough energy to sit up and check on you, he almost pinched himself just to make sure this wasn’t all a dream.

You caught him staring. “What? Is my makeup all over my face?”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Nah. It’s not that. I just can’t believe this happened. I never thought I’d get so lucky.”

“Quit being such a sap, Buck. Where’s that cool, laid back personality I’ve grown to be so fond of?” You turned your head so that it was laying up against his chest. The sweat sticking to the skin on both your bodies didn’t even matter.

“I’m still cool and laid back. Just happy, too. So uh…” he trailed off, fingers playing with the strands of your hair.

You flicked your eyes up to look at him. He was struggling and you had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. “Let’s go on a date when the weekend is over. Dinner? Drinks? Dancing?”

A bright smile flashed over his features and your heart melted at the sight. “Yeah, that’s… yes. Perfect. Trivia night at the bar closest to campus happens thursdays. We should go there right after we finish up Thursday night’s class, if that’s okay?”

The whole weekend might’ve seemed like it could have been a total disaster, what with the bed mixup, but it seemed maybe it wasn’t a mixup at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving feedback or checking out my [tumblr](http://stanclub.tumblr.com/)!


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